That’s when the laughter comes again.
Soft. Amused. Predatory.
The sound curls around us like smoke, and I flinch so hard I nearly fall. Thane stiffens, moving instinctively to shield me, fangs extending as his body prepares for a fight neither of us understand.
“Not yet, little queen.”
The voice that speaks is like velvet—deliberate, savoring every syllable like fine wine. The darkness begins to shift around us, not revealing a form exactly, butsuggestingone. Sometimes I catch glimpses of a man’s silhouette, sometimes something faceless and terrible. Sometimes both at once, flickering between states like a broken reflection.
Thane snarls, low and dangerous. “Show yourself, coward.”
A chuckle drifts through the air, rich with amusement.
“Little feeder.” The dismissal in those words makes Thane’s jaw clench. “You’ve played your part admirably. The betrayal, the guilt—all of it fed her beautifully. But you can’t shield her from me.”
“Hey.” The word snaps out of me before I can stop it. “Don’t talk to him like that.”
I’m furious with Thane. I hate what he did to me. But nobody gets to talk down to him like he’s nothing. Not while I’m here.
The voice chuckles again, and I can hear the pleased surprise in it. “How protective. Even when the fire inside you rages because of what he’s done.”
Something about the way he says it makes my skin crawl. Like he can see right through me, right into the mess of anger and hurt I’m carrying around.
Thane’s whole body goes rigid. I watch his face shift from panic to something colder, more calculating. The Thane I know snapping back into place as he realizes we’re not just lost—we’re being hunted.
The presence turns its attention to me, and suddenly the voice is closer, intimate, like lips brushing against my ear. I swear I can feel his breath.
“Welcome to the Void, little queen. Isn’t it beautiful? In the way it consumes?” The voice says, sending a shiver through me.
“They kept the truth from you, didn’t they?” Gentle. Understanding. Poisonous. “Decided you couldn’t be trusted with your own fate. But I will trust you, little queen. I will tell you everything.”
My skin crawls, but I can’t deny the sick pull of his words. The way they echo every doubt I’ve swallowed, every fear I’ve buried.
“That darkness you fear in yourself?” His voice is almost tender now. “It isn’t corruption. It’s honesty. It’s power. The power to take what you want instead of waiting to be given scraps.”
The black threads in the Ether pulse brighter with every word, responding to something in his voice like plants turning toward sunlight.
“Who the fuck are you?” I snarl, summoning every scrap of defiance I have left.
The Ether flares silver, trying to burn him back. For one beautiful moment, it works—his form wavers, retreats—but then the black spreads again, stronger than before. The corruption threads throughmy Ether like veins, and part of me—a part I don’t want to acknowledge—finds it almost soothing.
Thane goes deadly quiet. I can practically see him connecting dots, realizing just how deep this goes.
“I asked you a question,” I demand.
The voice chuckles, pleased that I asked. “Names have power, little queen. To give one freely…”
I wait, and the waiting makes it so much worse.
“You may call me Ethos.”
The name tastes bitter on my tongue, but it sticks there anyway. Like he branded it into my mind just by hearing it.
“Say it,” he whispers. “It’s already yours.”
“No.” But even as I refuse, the name echoes in my head.
Ethos. Ethos. Ethos.
